


If Tomorrow it's All Over

by Brorifles (Kyloisadisneyprincess)



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Angst, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:49:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29688378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyloisadisneyprincess/pseuds/Brorifles
Summary: “Let’s get you out of the snow, Agent,” Zeb says, hooking two large fingers under his breastplate, pulling him out of the snow. Kallus steadies himself, gloved hands against Zeb’s bare forearms. Arguments forgotten, all he wants is to melt into the heat of Zeb’s grasp.They wake leaning against each other to the sound of engines overhead.“A ship.”“Yes, but whose?”An alternant timeline where the Empire arrives on the frozen moon first.
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25
Collections: Kalluzeb Mini-Bang 2021





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Art by the amazing Sempaiko in chapter 2!

It starts with the barest offer of decency. 

“If the Ghost gets here first, you know...we’d treat you fairly,” Kallus can just hear Zeb over the wind. Kallus knows that Zeb could keep his word, a privilege that the Imperial war machine cannot afford officers like him. All this comradery they've shared will end regardless of who finds them first, if they are found at all. Now that they’ve made it to the moon’s surface, open and exposed, rescue is their only hope.

“My allegiance is to the Empire,” Kallus responds rotely through his chattering teeth. Talking isn't an option no matter how he's grown to like Zeb.

“And how’s that working out for you?” Zeb taunts and Kallus glares at him, feelings once again coming into question about the Lasat. “Didn’t exactly work out for Tua,” Zeb adds and Kallus foolishly lunges for him. 

“You kriffing killed her!” Kallus shouts, Zeb easily pushes him back into the snow.

“No,” Zeb responds, ears flicking forward in affront, like he can’t believe what he just heard.

“Yes. You did,” Kallus sputters up snow, still convinced he is right. Despite their ideals, rebel hands are not bloodless. Zeb’s face softens as he considers his words and his eyebrows knit together at the pain of speaking.

“Kallus, she wanted out. We were there to rescue her. You Imps planted that bomb,” Zeb’s voice is sincere and Kallus knows it’s true. It’s exactly the sort of thing Tarkin would have planned, how could he have missed it?

“I was just doing my job,” Kallus says, still lying in the snow. “We all have a duty to do what we can to uphold the Empire.”

“And when you can’t? Who’s got your back then?” Zeb grumbles sitting down beside him.

Kallus feels himself sink into the realization. He can’t see a future where he’s grown old and retired after serving the Empire. He’s known all along that he will meet some quicker end. The awareness of his own freezing body cascades into the bodies he has seen shuffled aside, the disappearances; quiet-still nothings where there once was life. He shivers and does not answer, cannot answer. The frozen moon grows colder each passing moment. Fear and imagination incubate in the looming dark as he struggles to comprehend.

“Let’s get you out of the snow, Agent,” Zeb says, hooking two large fingers under his breastplate, pulling him out of the snow. Kallus steadies himself, gloved hands against Zeb’s bare forearms. Arguments forgotten, all he wants is to melt into the heat of Zeb’s grasp.

They wake leaning against each other to the sound of engines overhead.

“A ship.”

“Yes, but whose?”

Wary they look at each other before moving to check around the corner of the outcropping. Kallus feels the cold in his lungs anew as the Lambda-class shuttle settles down into the fresh snow. 

“I’m not going,” Zeb says through gritted teeth. 

“I won’t make you,” Kallus answers, his voice is almost fond but mostly determined. He needs to show himself before the crew scan the area and note Zeb’s life signature.

Kallus stumbles out alone, feet sticking in the new snow and a bad limp throwing him more off balance with each step. 

“Lieutenant! Am I glad to see you,” he shouts.

“Agent! We’d almost given you up for dead, what with how bitterly cold this moon is,” he gestures troopers forward to aid Kallus. 

“That won’t be necessary,” Kallus rebuffs straightening himself.

“Very well,” Lyst allows Kallus his pride, “but answer me, what is the other life form we identified upon our entry?”

“Other?” Kallus feigns. 

“Scanners have indicated two sentient life forms in close proximity, Agent,” Lyste says calmly. Too calmly for a man whose hand is hovering over his pistol. “And you are the only Imperial unaccounted for.”

The troopers round the ridge where Zeb is hiding. And they hear his bo-rifle spring to life.

“Were you trying to hide the rebel hostage, Agent?!” Lyst accuses. His aim was shaking. A smarter man would have already shot. Before he can reply Zeb barrels over the ridge and grabs Kallus. The rest of the storm trooper squad streams out of the shuttle drawn by the shouting and gunfire. 

“You eliminate them both,” Lyst says, backing towards the safety of the mouth of the shuttle. “It's better than our agent deserves after botching so many attempts to capture and kill these Rebels.” 

Kallus gulps. And Zeb feels him shake in his arms.

He decides to go limp. He can’t shake Zeb’s grip and he knows that his body shielding Zeb’s won’t stop them from firing. This is it. He’s about to be killed by a fucking stormtrooper. At least Zeb’s arms are warm. But then he’s cold again. Zeb uses Kallus’s body to bowl over the troopers and he lands with his head banging on the shuttle ramp hard. His vision goes blurry and he feels dizzy. He barely recognizes that Zeb had gunned down the remaining troopers and pushed Lyst from the ramp. Zeb drags Kallus by the collar into the hold.

Zeb leaves him and he hears more shots from the cockpit. He starts to warm against the deck plates. Feels the ship shake through take off beneath him as they are buffeted by cannon fire. That fool Lasat is going to get them killed. 

Kallus forces himself to rise and nearly heaves. He limps up to the cockpit. 

Zeb is flying with his feet as he tries to disable the tracking system. Their flight pattern is definitely erratic enough to avoid a direct hit. Kallus stumbles into the co-pilot’s chair.

Zeb takes a moment to glare at him. Assessing if Kallus is still a threat.

“I’m charting our jump into hyperspace,” Kallus says, turning away. Zeb doesn’t have a chance to decide if he trusts his new ally or not.

The cockpit fills with streaks of light.

Zeb leans over Kallus’s station to check their jump. He doesn’t have to trust the bloody Imp even if he accepted his help. Kallus shrugs a shoulder into Zeb’s chest plate to express his distaste of the intrusion on his personal space. It’s hard not to notice the silence and the blush rising in Kallus’s cheeks. Zeb delays a few moments longer than he needs. Just to test a theory. His ears flick forward as Kallus goes rigid in an attempt to not squirm in his seat. 

“Something you want to tell me, Agent?” he asks, and Kallus hesitates before hardening the line of his mouth.

“Yes, you stink.”

Kallus is cursing himself as Zeb glares and leans in close to him. If he plays this right he’ll be able to keep some distance from Zeb but also keep himself out of an unnecessary fight. He has a knack for getting himself into tight situations. This one, not the least of them. He could have been celebrating the victory of capturing a valuable prisoner, if he had listened to his head. But no, he picked the feeling in his gut this time. And with Zeb’s big green eyes staring him down what a lovely feeling it is. Zeb flashes teeth at him like he knows. Aware of his charm and willing to perform.

“I took a risk on you, Orrelios,” Kallus warns. 

“Should I make it worth your while?” Zeb asks. Kallus’s stomach jumps. No wasting time then.

“Only if you want.”

“Oh, I want.”

Zeb starts by closing the gap between them, nuzzling where Kallus’s facial hair meets his neck. His throat entirely exposed save for his uniform collar, which Zeb is tugging at with a single claw. He gasps and tries to curl inward at the sensation of teeth. Zeb’s chuckle is half growl and the sound shoots straight to Kallus’s groin. 

Kallus’s hands are on Zeb’s chest plate as he pulls back. The smile is all teeth too. 

“No biting then?” Zeb asks. Kallus would be lying if he said the thought didn’t make his mouth water. 

“No biting...yet,” Kallus clarified. He’s entirely keyed up and jumpy as a gundark. 

Zeb grabs both Kallus’s wrists and pulls them away from his chest with one hand and pulls him up out of the pilot’s chair. He uses the claws on the other to gently pull off Kallus’s gloves. It’s strange to see Zeb’s hands do delicate work. It’s strange to not see them as fists. Zeb is smiling at him again, softer now, and somehow less wicked.

Then Kallus gasps and pitches forward as his knee gives out. He’s steadied by Zeb’s massive arms again.

“Sorry,” he gasps. His breathing not entirely heavy from pain.

“I’d like to take you bent over this console but I don’t think your knee would like that.”

“Decidedly not,” Kallus agrees. He’s certain he’s begun to tent his pants now.

“Let’s find somewhere to make you more comfortable while I find the medical supplies.” With that Zeb scoops him up, which is becoming somewhat of a regular occurrence. 

He gets unceremoniously deposited in the passenger’s cabin. Usually reserved for higher ranking positions and Imperial officials. Kallus has rarely slept in one. And of the times he has he’s never been the one laid out like this. Zeb presses him down with his whole body and rubs their cheeks together to scent him. 

“Don’t move, I’ll be back,” he says, pushing himself up.

\-----

Surely Zeb doesn’t mean don’t move at all? He means, “just don’t get up and walk off before I can fuck you,” right? Kallus blinks at the ceiling and decides that he should remove his chest plate, boots and small twinge of guilt about cavorting with the enemy. He doesn’t have to leave the bed or put weight on his leg to do those things. Yes, he’ll start with those. Maybe the belt as well?

Zeb is back before he can unclip his belt. Kallus is sitting up looking at him expectantly. Zeb has the med kit and the foresight to take out the scanner and bone knitter. They look miniscule in his large hands.

“Lie back,” he asks. Kallus complies, letting Zeb get to work. He hooks Kallus’s legs over his shoulders and reaches between them to unclip the belt himself. Kallus helps lift his hips to allow Zeb to remove his pants. He tries to breathe deeply and calm himself as Zeb works. The soft chiming of the scanner and whir of the bone knitter fill the silence.

“Can we test your range of motion?” Zeb asks. Kallus moves without speaking to bend his knee inward towards his chest. Zeb’s hand guides the motion by gripping his thigh, his palm is warm against Kallus’s bare skin. 

“It feels better.”

“But not great?” Zeb asks.

“It might just take some time.”

“Can we test your balance?” Zeb asks.

“Yes.”

Zeb grips his waist and pulls him to his feet. Kallus shifts from one foot to the other testing the strength. It stings still. But it’s much better than before.

“I think I’m alright.”

“Good,” Zeb hums. “Now take this off.” He pulls at Kallus’s tunic. 

Zebs hands and eyes on him as he undresses make him feel small. He removes the tunic and tosses it to the floor. Now only his briefs remain. After childhood most are never again at ease with their own nakedness. Being stripped in front of a former enemy is something of an entirely different game. One that Kallus is not sure he’s winning.

Kallus is spun and pushed face first onto the bed. He supposes Zeb doesn’t feel for him as much now that he’s all fixed up. Nearly naked, squirming on his belly as Zeb bears down on him Kallus tries to get his arms under himself and push up.

“Keep your hands where I can see them, Agent!”

Zeb yanks the offending hand above Kallus’s head. Kallus’s other hand comes to rest above his closed fist, like it belongs there. Not fighting back against his bruising grip but just brushing over his raw knuckles. They itch, recalling some tenderness from another life. Zeb snarls and bites into the meat of Kallus’s shoulder and the gentle hand becomes all nails. The bite draws out the yelp that Zeb wanted. He releases and grins against Kallus’s neck. 

They’re definitely not holding hands, whatever that was. He won’t allow it. This is just a one time fling. Just a taste won’t hurt. He hesitates and Kallus tries to buck him off in retaliation. It’s not a solid strategy as he ends up grinding his ass into Zeb’s hardening cock. 

He’s like to say they both paused and took control of themselves. But no, the feeling of their bodies pressed together was too good to recoil from. The warm shape of them moving together unlike any way they had touched before. It’s tedious to remove the rest of their clothes lying down but they do it, rolling and writhing into different positions, still clasped together until they’ve rid themselves of all the offending articles. 

Kallus ends up atop Zeb straddling him as they each work on a vambrace,  _ tricky little closures on these things  _ Kallus thinks as Zeb flings one across the room. He uses his claws to undo the other as Kallus’s hands drift to his newly bared chest. And lower still to tease at his cock. Zeb growls and bares his teeth pulling Kallus down by his hair into a wild kiss. It’s imperfect and their teeth clack together on more than one occasion. Kallus is sure that one of Zeb’s incisors has caught on his lower lip. But all of that is lost as they begin moving together. Kallus guides one of Zeb’s hands down to match his and they pull and stroke at each other while pressed chest to chest. 

Zeb becomes more slippery than he does, copiously so. Each motion produces a satisfying squelch as their pace grows more eager. Kallus cums first, his seed mixing with Zeb’s pre-cum. He shouts and curses going limp against Zeb’s still moving body. Zeb flips them over. 

“Been a while then, Agent?” he asks, his face smug and lust addled. It might just be Kallus’s favorite expression yet. Zeb licks a stripe through their mess before taking Kallus and flipping him over again. Their spend is rubbing into the sheets. He hooks a massive arm under Kallus's hips, fur tickling his spent cock and uses Kallus’s thighs to bring himself over the edge. There is nothing quite like being spent and blissful while being used, Kallus thinks. Zeb adds to the cumulative mess that has soaked the Agent before he collapses beside him, sated. 

“That was... not bad,” Kallus says after some time. One of Zeb’s green eyes opens to regard him.

“Why don’t you tell me you're in love while you're at it?” Zeb flashes his teeth at Kallus in the dark and Kallus swears he sees lights. 

“I’m in love,” Kallus parrots rolling over to cup at Zeb’s cock. “Again?”

\---

Ditching a stolen Imperial ship is no easy task. Luckily Tatooine has Jawas that could strip a Star Destroyer clean like piranhas. The trade is less than fair but with some credits in hand they make their way into Mos Eisley.

It’s easy enough to blend in with Kallus in some worn out civvies bought off the Jawas. And looking like he’d slept rough the previous night, which in a sense he had. With his hair mussed Zeb could almost mistake him for a rebel, even his crisp Imperial step is off today. And Zeb smirks to himself knowing why. 

They make their way past vendors and the docking bays. Mos Eisley comes to life, the twin suns just beginning to peak above the horizon, casting long shadows from the domed buildings. The comm station they can use to send an encrypted message to the Ghost will be closer to the center of town. 

Kallus waits outside as Zeb calls for help. Leaning against a wall in the rising suns Kallus is comfortable and could almost drop his guard. There’ll be no more standing at attention for him. A group of children run across the square, their motion activating the holo boards.  _ Sale at Watto’s, Solo wanted by the Hutts, and a list of Imperial bounties.  _ It makes him start. But his and Zeb’s faces aren’t up there; they are safe for now. 

A group of older kids stumble into the square nearly making off with the previous group's ball, before stopping in front of the newsboards. 

“I’ll be a hunter some day!” one says, brandishing his scrawny fists at his friend. “Just like the ones that come through here and drink at the tavern.” His friends laugh at him and they are scolded on their way by vendors as the market begins to come to life. 

“Ready for some breakfast?” Zeb asks, appearing from within the kiosk. “It’ll be at least a rotation before the Ghost can pick us up.”

“Absolutely,” Kallus replies. Zeb’s arm hooks around his shoulder and they don’t turn back to look at the waking market. Behind them the wanted board flickers as it updates before springing back to life. 

They eat in a rundown inn not too far from the port. Breakfast is quick and they barely talk, instead opting to eye each other over their bowls. As they finish the innkeeper makes her way over to the table.

“One room for the two of you?” she states more than asks.

“Yes Ma'am,” Zeb replies, stretching like a cat and grinning at Kallus. Kallus’s food nearly falls out of his mouth.

“How? Did she know that we…”

“Don’t play dumb, everyone can tell that you smell like me from a mile away,” Zeb answers and Kallus blushes furiously.

They make their way to the upstairs room. And Zeb instantly makes himself comfortable, seated on the bed. Kallus peers in warily before keying the door shut.

“Get over here,” Zeb growls pulling Kallus between his parted thighs. Still standing Kallus can look down at Zeb, a strange occurrence. But it makes him feel slightly less out of control as Zeb wraps his hands around his hips. He presses against Zeb’s chest as Zeb’s hands begin to wander over his ass and up his shirt. 

“Shouldn’t we clean up?” Kallus protests.

“Why? Were you planning to not get your hands dirty?” Zeb looks at him expectantly. Kallus weighs his options. He’s never really been one for more than one time flings. But these are special circumstances. He’s a wanted Imperial about to be taken into Rebel custody. Zeb’s possessiveness may be what keeps him alive. He’s paused too long and Zeb is growing concerned. Kallus braces himself against Zeb’s thighs and sinks to his knees.

“Whoa, hey there.” Zeb pauses, stroking Kallus’s hair out of his face. Kallus nuzzles in more so he doesn’t have to meet Zeb’s eyes. “You know we don’t have to do this. There are other ways to pass time. And I’m going to make sure you are treated fairly regardless.”

“I know,” Kallus mumbles into Zeb’s thigh. He’s surprised and ashamed that Zeb could read him. Zeb isn’t the bumbling oaf everyone made him out to be. And Kallus is just now coming to terms with suddenly leaving his life behind? What if Zeb came to the conclusion that all of this was a ploy? Or worse, what if Zeb is just using him?

“You are a rebel now after all,” Zeb adds. And Kallus jerks his head up.

“What?” Kallus asks. Zeb raises an eyebrow at him.

“I said you are a rebel,” Zeb adds enunciating the last word and each of its syllables. “Does that offend your delicate Coruscanti sensibilities?” Zeb teases, his grin growing wide. And Kallus is reminded of just how much of a pain Zeb is. And of how good and gentle he can be in spite of all that he has been through. Zeb is not broken, like the Empire and its people are and Zeb is not going to abuse him.

“No, I just.. What sensibilities!?... and I know I’m a fugitive but a rebel?!” Kallus sputters indignantly. He’s scared to voice just how grateful he is to Zeb. A debt like that can be taken advantage of. Zeb grins at him and his eyes glint.

“Oh you haven't heard, have you?! If you let a rebel cum in you you are one!” Zeb says, grin growing wider. Kallus huffs. “ Sorry mate I don't make the rules,” Zeb shrugs. And Kallus laughs. 

“That sounds unlikely,” he rebuffs.

“Admit it. You like being a dirty little rebel,” Zeb continues. Kallus’s gasp is halfway between arousal and indignation.

“This can’t be respectful to the ideology of your movement!” Kallus says taking a deep breath and trying to keep a straight face.

“Doesn’t have to be respectful to make you want some,” Zeb shifts his crotch forward and grasps between Kallus’s legs with his foot. The pressure on his half hard cock feels so good.

“Oh,” Kallus gasps, tracing the hardening outline of Zeb’s cock with his fingers.

“I suppose it does not,” he answers breathing in Zeb’s scent. He closes his eyes and relaxes. 

“Would you like my cock?” Zeb asks. His tone is gentle and he runs his hands over Kallus’s shoulders.

“I love your cock. We both know that,” Kallus says looking up at him.

Zeb pulls himself out of his jump suit and swipes the head of his cock oozing precum over Kallus’s face. 

“There, so there is no mistake.”

“You fool,” Kallus chides softly chuckling one last time before gripping Zeb’s cock in his own two hands. “That doesn’t belong there.” With that Kallus pops his lips around Zeb’s cock and both of them are silenced by moaning and sucking and the wet slick sounds of Kallus sliding Zeb’s all too sticky cock as far down his throat as he can handle. He gags and gasps when it becomes too much, nearly drowning himself in Zeb’s pre-cum. He thinks he can feel some in the back of his nose. At the sight of Kallus dripping and flushed Zeb cums across Kallus’s face. The volume of it running down Kallus’s chest and thighs.

Kallus is in a daze, his head still resting on Zeb’s thigh when Zeb regains his wits. It doesn’t take more than a growl and a few tugs to bring Kallus off. He cums his own pitiful amount into Zeb’s palm and watches his lover lap it up in a few licks. Zeb smiles at him again and Kallus swears he could die.

“Let’s get you cleaned up now, rebel.”

Zeb pulls him up and walks him to the fresher. Kallus isn’t ready to see his ruined face in the mirror. He leans over the sink as Zeb starts the sonic shower. No water to spend on washing up on a desert planet like Tatooine. But cum can be stubborn, especially lasat cum, Zeb knows. He reaches around Kallus to run the sink, wetting and wringing out a cloth for Kallus’s face. 

Kallus’s silence is worrisome. Zeb hugs him tightly before helping him pull off his cum-stained clothes. 

“Where have you gone in there, Kal?” Zeb asks gently nuzzling Kallus’s hair breathing him in like he’d be able to smell his thoughts.

Kallus doesn’t know what to do, before on the shuttle they had both fallen asleep exhausted, and all of Kallus’s other lovers hadn’t been ones who would care enough to see to him after, much less spend the night. He’s so used to being used and done away with. But the attention is nice.

“Zeb, thank you,” Kallus pauses, turning so they are chest to chest. “I didn’t think people really took care of each other like this. And I certainly wasn’t thinking that you would even give a second thought about me.” 

Zeb’s gaze turns serious, his brows pointed.

“Kal, you’re important. We all are, and fuck the Empire for not letting you see it.”

They clean up and sleep through lunch before finding a cantina near the center of town for dinner. The alcove table they find lets them keep an eye on the door from a sheltered position. The food is poor and you can only make it so much better with a drink. Not to mention they are on the run. They struggle to find things to talk about that wouldn’t give them away, even in the half empty room. With no noise to cover their conversation silence becomes a companion. Kallus has never had the chance to closely study Zeb’s face. His movements and expressions. He’s currently working on removing some grit from the barrel of his rifle. It’s in much worse condition than Kallus’s. It is held together with wrappings and a subpar replacement cap hangs loosely over the power cell. But then… they don’t make Lasat weapons anymore do they?

A lecture on the safety of his cultural weapon would be unwelcome and inappropriate. Besides Zeb’s gotten this far without incident. Kallus traces Zeb’s hands with his eyes as he works, up his arms and shoulders to his concerned and preoccupied face. Maybe some of the parts of their bo-rifles are compatible. Fixing Zeb’s weapon may not be entirely out of reach.

Their food has long grown cold in front of them when Zeb’s ears begin to flick towards another group. They sit across the bar from them conversing in hushed huttese. Kallus can pick out a few words but nothing useful. They seem to be waiting for something, someone?

“Don’t look at them,” Zeb mumbles.

“Understood.”

“We need to make a break for it before their back-up arrives,” Zeb says in a low voice, his eyes darting to the door. He moves to get up and Kallus follows.

“You think we can just walk out of here?”

“I think we can try.”

Even though the spies at the corner table outnumber them they seem wary. They stir as Zeb and Kallus make their way towards the door but do not follow. 

Outside may have been a mistake.

They are lucky the sniper’s first shot misses. There is an indignant roar from another hunter across the square who shoots the sniper off the roof before setting his sight on Kallus and Zeb once again. They take cover behind a speeder as the commotion draws their original hunters and then some out into the Tatooine night. Hunters aren't ones to argue with their words and all hell breaks loose. 

Kallus remembers being thrown clear by a blast. And wakes with Zeb beside him. His ears ring and there is still constant blaster fire. Everything smells burnt and the haze stings his eyes but Kallus rights himself and draws his weapon. 

“You need to go, leave me! I can cover you,” Kallus says between shots. ”Your rebels need you.” 

“I don’t think you know how rebels work,” Zeb says, taking aim at the fuel cell of a speeder across the square. “But I thought you did know they don’t know when to quit.”

“There’s our break!” Zeb shouts over the explosion. He grabs Kallus’s arm and drags him towards an alley, the only one not lit up by blaster fire. They run for it and spill out onto another street. 

“I told you I’d get us out of this mess!” Zeb says chuckling and shrugs back at the square. “Once they're done they won’t even know who shot who.” 

That is when Kallus sees it, his head still spinning as it comes into focus, backlit by the smoke and the gunfire, a single scrawny silhouette. 

“Behind you! Zeb duck!” Kallus shouts and draws his blaster.

It’s a lucky shot. It lands home on the power cell of Zeb’s rifle and Zeb is thrown forward by the explosion. The kid looks at his gun and then to Zeb and then to Kallus. He drops it and runs.

Kallus's aim shakes and he fires wide before rushing to Zeb. The carnage is alarming. How could things have gone this wrong so quickly? There's too much blood glinting in the low light and much more shrapnel. Kallus can hear the rattle of Zeb’s chest as he struggles to breathe. 

"Let's sit you up. We've got to get help," Kallus says. Though there is not much hope of that now. Even if the Ghost appeared in the sky right now Zeb’s chances would be slim. As Kallus tries to move him Zeb grips his shoulder weakly. 

"You need to go on," Zeb says. And he's right. The firefight in the square has calmed down and the survivors will soon find their prizes missing.

"Help me sit up, over there," Zeb demands, sputtering through the pain. He gestures to some cover near the shadows of an alley. "I'll take some of them with me if they come this way." Zeb seems half unaware that his rifle has exploded into his back, the weapon shattered in two.

"I'm staying with you, you fool." They limp together over into the shadows and wait. Dawn will find them or death will sooner. 

\---

Their enemies don't find them. Perhaps they picked each other off. The twin suns rise and footsteps approach.

"Over here!"

Kallus jerks awake, his head still ringing.

It's Hera Syndulla, the Ghost's pilot. Her eyes widen and her face contorts. And Kallus suddenly becomes aware of Zeb’s head heavy against his shoulder, Zeb’s grip stiff around his hand and the complete lifelessness of his body. Kallus jerks away like he's been slapped.

"I… I didn't!" he starts.

"Like hell you didn't!" Hera snarls as she draws her blaster. And the Jedi appears behind her followed closely by Bridger.

"He's telling the truth." Kanan says, his hand over Hera's on the pistol. "Let him go love."

Ezra has other ideas and lunges after Kallus only to be caught in both Kanan and Hera's arms. Kallus scrambles back and decides it's time to stop tempting fate. He doesn't take one last look before he runs. Faintly he can hear Bridger pleading with Zeb to get up.

The twin suns rise and they feel like nothing compared to what he had. Kallus peels off his gloves, he’s come away bloody again. Head in his hands he wipes his arm over his brow. A stray piece of purple fur sticks to his thumb. A stitch from the thread of some other life. 


	2. Art work by Sempaiko

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank Sempaiko for the beautiful art and for being an awesome partner! <3


End file.
